


Mistakes (And other Things)

by blacknblueupahill



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, But is it really?, Fluff, M/M, Work In Progress, i don't know how to tag things, or title them, season 6 did this to me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacknblueupahill/pseuds/blacknblueupahill
Summary: Perhaps it was because helovedKeith.Perhaps it was because it wasn't any sort ofbrotherlylove.Perhaps it was because he never told him.Perhaps it was because he had eons to sit and ponder the curve of Keith’s smile and the depth in his eyes.Perhaps it was all of these things, and so much more.He was glad to see Lance. Achingly glad.But he was also devastated not to see Keith.Mistakes had been made.Yes, Shiro thought, head in his hands while Keith’s voice ricocheted around his skull,mistakes were made.He could do nothing but wait.





	1. Close

**Author's Note:**

> hiya. I don't really know what this is, I just know that I liked it more than most stuff I write, which is why I'm finally posting something. I'll probably continue it? hopefully, anyways. It's just a lot of weird vague delving into Shiro's mind because I couldn't sleep until I got this stuff on a doc... it's short and largely unedited, like everything I write, but at least it's a thing! thanks for reading my dudes

He could feel them.

 

He could finally feel them close enough to reach out to.

 

And he did. He fucking clawed his way at his own psyche, clinging to Black for any help she might offer.

 

And… and… it wasn’t Keith.

 

It was Lance.

 

As happy as he was to see Lance, hear him, anything from him, it didn't stop the ache.

 

Shiro had an eternity to think about his mistakes. Shiro had forever calculate all his own misgivings, and an age to let his inhibitions fall away.

 

Time in Black’s consciousness was strange. Moments dragged into years, only to blink away. Only to swirl together with all the past memories, draw out old memories, then seal everything back in for a millenium. And that was only to crack back open into the coalescing existence of being awake in that sort of almost-space.

 

So, yes. Shiro had time to think. Shiro had more than enough time to think about himself, and enough time to start thinking about Keith.

 

Perhaps it was because that was where he felt he’d slipped up the most. He’d let down everyone, but he’d broken a promise to Keith.

 

More than a promise.

 

The only promise.

 

Perhaps it was because he _loved_ Keith.

 

Perhaps it was because it wasn't any sort of _brotherly_ love.

 

Perhaps it was because he never told him.

 

Perhaps it was because he had eons to sit and ponder the curve of Keith’s smile and the depth in his eyes.

 

Perhaps it was all of these things, and so much more.

 

He was glad to see Lance. Achingly glad.

 

But he was also devastated not to see Keith.

 

Mistakes had been made.

 

_Yes_ , Shiro thought, head in his hands while Keith’s voice ricocheted around his skull, _mistakes were made._

 

He could do nothing but wait.

 

He could watch from the sidelines, intangible and invisible. See Keith falter, watch his missteps. Ache to guide him. Ache to just… _touch_ him, for even the briefest of moments. Beg to be able to tell him how proud he should be of himself. Stare at that little crinkle in the corners of his eyes, and _ache_ to go back in time. Just one more chance.

 

There was also the longing.

 

Shiro pretended he didn't acknowledge the longing. But stuck with Black as his only companion, it was hard to deny anything.

 

And the longing was unbearable. To card his fingers through Keith’s hair. To sling his arms around his middle, draw him impossibly close. To tell him.

 

Sometimes, there were moments he swore Keith could _feel_ him stuck there. Lingering stares at empty space, hesitation in his words.

 

They were the _worst_ moments, Shiro thought. They left him feeling so incredibly hopeful; maybe this time he’d get the message through.

 

But still, Shiro’s mistakes piled up. He hadn't been able to save them then, and he wouldn't be able to save them still.

 

The moment with Lance, that was his only chance, and it was ripped away from him before he took it all the way.

 

Cruel. It was all so cruel.

 

Shiro screamed, or maybe he sobbed, into the familiar abyss until Black came to join him. They yelled, or cried, at the stars, until Shiro found time and space drifting away from him again.

 

Yes, mistakes had been made.

 

\---

 

_“Shiro, please.”  Keith’s voice. Higher than it is now._

 

_It’s a dream of a memory but Shiro can’t find himself acknowledge that it’s just that._

 

_“I’ll be back before you know it…” His own voice. Cracking. He doesn't want to leave, not really. Part of him_ **_knows._ **

 

_“You promised,” Keith whispers._

 

_“I’m not giving up on you, Keith.”_

 

_They’re standing far too close to just be friendly. Far too close. Keith’s breath is short and harsh, rushing against Shiro’s bottom lip._

_His head is tilted up, and those eyes of his are glassy with the threat of tears._

 

_Shiro feels his heart start battering around in his chest like it’s dying to be free._

 

_God, they’re so close. Keith’s room is dim. The only light comes from the lamp near his bed. There's a book, thrown carelessly aside on the sheets. Keith cared so much more about squeezing out time with Shiro than he did about a book._

 

_Books would still be there when Shiro was gone. Everything would still be there when_ _Shiro was gone._

 

_Except Shiro._

 

_“I have to go…” Shiro tells them both, but he doesn't go. Not yet. His disobedient fingers card through Keith’s hair, curling into the strands at the back of his neck. His other hand is resting just below Keith’s jaw, cupping his face._

 

_Keith’s pulse is racing under Shiro’s thumb._

 

_He doesn't want to leave._

 

_He presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead. Shuts his eyes tight to hide how much it hurts._

 

_He presses a kiss to the tip of Keith’s nose. Tightens his grip to show how much he cares._

 

_He hesitates, just above Keith’s lips. Waits to see how much they want it._

 

_He kisses him, slotting their bodies so close together that it burns._

 

_Keith kisses him back, with a frantic sort of need._

 

_They’re on the bed now. Keith’s weight on Shiro’s thighs. Please. Please, he doesn't want to leave. Something will happen._

 

_Shiro rolls Keith over, and mouths his way down his torso. This isn't the answer, he knows. But he needs to remember. He needs to savor every last moment Keith gives him._

 

_Keith moans, hungrily. He kisses like he fights. He’s needy._

 

_It’s intoxicating._

 

_Shiro feels his eyes start to sting. Maybe he loves him, but he doesn't know. Not yet. So he doesn't say it._

 

_The next morning, he hugs Keith. They stare into each other’s eyes. Keith’s head tilts down and his hair falls in his face. He walks away. Their fingers linger too long to hide anything._

 

_Shiro does not want to leave. Shiro stares blankly at Matt and Captain Holt as they board the ship. Shiro does not watch Earth fade from view._

 

_He wishes he had said it._


	2. Some Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past Shiro returns from Kerberos, while present Shiro is still stuck stewing in his contemplation.

_ They put him under. He comes back to earth, finally claws his way back home, and the Garrison puts him under.  _

 

_ It’s infuriating. He needs to tell his CO. Voltron. Voltron. Voltron. He’s repeated that word over and over now, afraid of forgetting. Voltron, Voltron, Voltron.  _

 

_ He needs to tell them that the whole planet is in danger. That if they don’t do something,  _ _there's no stopping...No stopping the end._

 

_ He feels a growl rumble around in his chest, frantic, but it’s too late. He feels the consciousness slip away, his limbs go weak.  _

 

_ And… and when he wakes up, the fluorescents are gone. When he wakes up, it’s the smell that makes him realise. Keith.  _

 

_ He still smells the same, a little saltier, but the same. Shiro’s eyes open a little faster at that realisation.  _

 

_ “Keith?” he asks. The room is empty, or at least he thinks it is. “Keith.”  _

 

_ Someone shifts from the corner at the foot of the bed and shuffles to the door. “I’ll go get him...” The door closes.  _

 

_ Shiro scrambles to try sitting up but gets only a little farther than propped up on his elbows before the door opens again.  _

 

_ There’s Keith. Shiro lets out a sigh of relief. A small one. There’s still so much more to worry about.  _

 

_ But Keith is there. Keith is okay. Keith has gunmetal eyes and stupid messy hair and a crooked nose.  _

 

_ “Let’s… uh… Can you stand?”  His voice got deeper. Shiro tells himself he doesn't notice it. He’s had years to let the emotions fester and boil and curl in on themselves. It’s easier not to feel it.  _

 

_ Shiro doesn't know if he can stand but he tries anyways. Keith slips over to help him up. Hands on his chest. Shiro’s eyes close. Everything in his head is dizzy at best.  _

 

_ “Let’s go talk outside…” Keith says. He glances at the others who walked in behind him. Shiro hadn't even noticed them. Keith took the attention. All of it. Keith, with his cheeks and his hands. _

 

_ “Where were you?” Keith asks. They’re standing, looking across the vast expanse of desert.  The sun is setting. Shiro had never realised that it was possible to miss the sun before all of this.  _

 

_ “I wish I could tell you,” he murmurs. Keith’s hand in on his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric there. Just a little. Shiro stutters and tells him what he remembers.  _

 

_ It isn’t much. And he doesn't say what he knows he wanted to.  _

 

_ Keith stares up at him, brows pinched, and lips curled in a pout. He crosses his arms, and nods vaguely.  _

 

_ “How did you know to come find me?”  Shiro finds himself asking, despite the voice that screams about not giving into urges like that.  _

 

_ Keith’s face opens a little bit, and his hand brushes Shiro’s waist. Shiro doesn't watch his lips. “You should come see this,” Keith whispers, leading him back inside.  Shiro doesn’t mention that he doesn’t want to leave quite yet. He knows there are more important things than himself. Knows his place.  _

_ Voltron. He doesn't remember anything beyond the mission. Part of him knows he desperately doesn't want to remember.  _

 

_ But some emotions are easier not to have.  _

 

_ Some emotions.  _

 

_ \--- _

 

Some emotions are easier not to have, but Shiro has had another eternity to think about Keith. He’s had another stretch of time to grasp at straws and seethe at nothing.

 

Why didn't he ever tell him? He should have told him. 

 

Told him what they both knew was there. Confirmed it, somehow. 

 

In more than just lingering touches and heavy gazes. In more than hugs, all pre-mission adrenaline and never mentioned. In more than the unspoken words in the moments where they were both just a little too weak to keep away. 

 

He should have said it, instead of reliving each of the weaker moments in stark, chronological detail. 

 

Some emotions are easier not to have, and Shiro has been trying not feel this one for years now. It’s the hardest one to let go of. 

 

He can push the fear, and guilt and sadness away. He can push the anger and desperation away. 

 

And no matter how hard he tries he can't push the longing away. Not the desire or the love, either. 

 

Even when he convinces himself he has, he hasn’t. Not really. 

 

Saving the universe is important. Shiro has done everything to save the universe.  _ Everything _ . He died, to save the universe. 

 

But it wasn't for anything, was it? He didn't save anyone. 

 

Zarkon came back. Shiro dying was for… not much of anything. 

 

It just left him stuck, watching things from his Lion’s eyes. Watching his own face lie to his family. Lie to Keith. 

 

Sometimes he would try to tell them. Get Black to move, make them hear his voice, he didn't know. Anything. 

 

It was exhausting, but energy doesn't exist in an astral plane, not really. So yes, he was tired, but he had no body to be tired with.There was no where to hide anymore.

 

In the moments where he gave up, he would lay down and watch the ever-changing constellations above him. He couldn't feel anything, not his own weight, or the hardness of ground under him. But he could watch. He could watch until conscious effort faded away. Until all there was to remember or do or think or see or love or hate was the endless purple-black stew. 

 

Maybe  _ all _ emotions were easier not to have. 

 

But Shiro had given up on that concept twenty eons ago. 


	3. Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> past shiro has a moment of weakness; present shiro does some more pondering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya um just wanted to say thank you for reading again! and also to apologize for how short everything is and my lack of a schedule...but thank you for reading! it means more than I can say

_ “How?” Keith asks. “How did you get used to it?”  _

 

_ The room is still unfamiliar. Altean, apparently. It’s nice, though.  _

 

_ Shiro is already used to the existence of aliens. He had no time to be shocked, no time to dip his toe in before he cannonballed.  _

 

_ Keith, though. Shiro can see the confusion and doubt in his eyes. The fear. Even when Keith doesn't tell him, Shiro can always see the fear.  _

 

_ Shiro sighs. They’re standing so far apart, even though it’s less than four feet. “I don’t know…” It’s true. He knows very little about what happened to him.  _

 

_ The memories come in flashes. Very little,  still.  _

 

_ Keith’s face contorts up into something like sadness or fear or anger or all three.  _

 

_ They haven't touched at all since the moment in the sunset and it’s killing Shiro.  _

 

_ But the universe is at stake now. There are more important things than his love for someone he should only love like a brother. _

 

_ Keith steps forwards, though. Closer to Shiro. He’s not crying. Shiro can’t remember Keith ever crying. His eyes only ever threaten to cry.  _

 

_ Before Shiro can say anything, Keith is walking into his outstretched arms.  Keith’s body is hot, and denser than he remembers.  _

 

_ Keith buries his face in the middle of Shiro’s chest. He’s raking in breaths like maybe he will cry this time, and Shiro scoops him into his arms. Cards his fingers through his hair, unknotting any tangles. Shiro’s breath catches as Keith’s nails drag across his shoulder blades, easy to feel through his shirt.  _

 

_ “Shiro…” Keith whispers. His voice sounds dangerously close to relieved, maybe.  _

 

_ Shiro presses a self indulgent kiss to Keith’s hair and squeezes him tighter.  _

 

_ “I’ve got you…”  _

 

_ “I missed you.” Keith mumbles. “Don’t go, please. Stay.”  _

 

_ Shiro knows he shouldn't. He should say how much he missed him too, hide the devotion in his voice and return to his own quarters.  _

 

_ He shuffles over to the bed and lays down, arms cradling Keith. “Okay,” he whispers.  _

 

_ Keith has wandering hands. His fingers, slightly longer than Shiro remembers, tug and drag over his chest and shoulders and back and arms.  _

 

_ His nails catch, and Shiro is trying desperately not to get worked up but its been years.  _

 

_ Keith brushes over a sensitive spot one too many times and Shiro can't help the moan that falls from his lips.  _

 

_ He shuts his eyes. He shouldn't, they shouldn't. It was a mistake the first time, a heat of the moment thing. They have the whole universe on their shoulders now. There isn't time for distractions like this.  _

 

_ Keith’s eyes are shining with something like awe. He rolls, hips too small to quite straddle Shiro’s all the way. The pressure tears another desperate sound from Shiro’s throat. Keith’s lips are parted in curiosity.  _

 

_ “It wasn’t a dream…” he whispers. “Was it?”  _

 

_ Shiro had always wondered if Keith remembered it the way he did or if all the almost crying had him delirious enough to forget parts of it. “It felt like one,” Shiro tells him.  _

 

_ Keith’s cheeks go pink at that. He would almost look innocent if it wasn't for the way his legs were spread over Shiro’s and the way his hands splay across his pecs.  _

 

_ Keith’s hands squeeze, dragging fabric over all the right places. Shiro hisses, hands disobedient as ever, and curls his fingers around Keith’s thighs.  _

 

_ He’s all muscle now. Shiro finds himself panting. Last time, everything was clouded by the dread. This time, everything is in stark clarity. They’re back together. For a little while, nothing else matters.  _

 

_ Keith shucks off his own shirt, and leans his weight back to give Shiro the space to do the same.  _

 

_ Shiro groans. He knows he shouldn't let this happen. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline rushing between them. He knows he should say something.  _

 

_ Keith grinds down against him. Shiro feels his grip tighten on Keith. He doesn't know how his shirt ends up on the floor, and he doesn't care.  _

 

_ His skin is so hot. Almost feverish. When he leans down close, presses their chests together, Shiro almost sees stars.  _

 

_ All the unwanted emotions surge back up. The longing and the desire and  a little bit of the shame. The unsaid words.  _

 

_ And then Keith is kissing him. It’s hesitant at first, unsure. Shiro’s hand slides up to catch a handful of Keith’s hair, to slot their lips together further. Shiro’s cheeks are wet and he can't tell who is crying.  _

 

_ Keith whines, hips rolling again. Shiro can't tell if he means for either of those things to happen.  _

 

_ The hand still on his thigh slides around to tug him closer. _

 

_ Another one of those heavenly little sounds claws out of Keith’s throat. It’s years worth of pent up want and need. _

 

_ “Shiro,” he pants. He goes up on his knees, a string of spit connecting them for a moment longer. His eyes are glassy and starry and everything Shiro remembers. _

 

_ “Keith,” Shiro answers.  _

 

_ “You okay?”  _

 

_ That’s when Shiro realises he’s crying. He looks at Keith, taking in every little detail he can. Crooked nose. Thin, callused fingers. The slant of his jaw and the curve of his bottom lip.  _

 

_ One slip up isn’t enough to be a distraction, he tells himself. Once isn't enough to fall in love. One moment of weakness isn't enough to change the course of history.  _

 

_ “Yeah,” he whispers.  _

 

_ Keith smiles in the dim, blue light and smoothes his hands over the planes of Shiro’s chest. The Altean light makes him look ethereal.  _

 

_ Shiro’s fingers ghost across Keith’s torso, lingering on the more sensitive spots. He wants to map out this memory forever. _

 

_ Before he realises, they’re both without their boxers, and suddenly their thighs slot together like puzzle pieces.   _

 

_ The contact sends shivers down Shiro’s spine. Keith’s cheeks are going pink again. His hips buck up, aiming for friction.  _

 

_ Shiro mouths at Keith’s neck, careful not to leave any marks. Despite his delicacy, Keith still squirms under him, panting and gripping at his arms. Shiro sucks in a breath, tracing the shell of his ear.  _

 

_ Keith moans, loud this time.  _

 

_ Shiro doesn't even stop to wonder if the rooms on the Castle are soundproof.  _

 

_ \--- _

 

Shiro knows that once is more than enough to fall in love. He’s known for centuries now. 

 

He watches Keith in the pilot seat of Black and paces. This is what he does now. 

 

Perhaps if his presence is so forcefully, willfully there, Keith will notice eventually. 

 

But it feels like he is useless. This is just his fate, he thinks. 

 

Maybe someday, he will become an ageless eldritch being, free of time and space and all things except loneliness. 

 

Because he didn't even need to kiss Keith to know he was doomed to fall in love. 

 

“Good job, team…” Keith pants next to him. “Disband and head back to the castle.” 

 

Shiro leans against the chair and watches the way Keith's lips form into a crooked smile. He switches off the comms and tilts his head up, eyes trained where Shiro’s stare at him. 

 

Shiro jumps back. 

 

Keith’s eyes dance blankly across Black’s ceiling, unaffected by Shiro. “Hm…”

 

Shiro slumps back to where he was. No, of course he couldn't see him. He was just finding something to do while he idled. 

 

Keith’s eyes are some kind of indescribable colour. Shiro has spent a few decades pondering the right words. Gunmetal was his favourite for a while. Then smoky quartz. Then ash. Pewter violet. He doesn’t really know anymore. He’d spent too long thinking about it. 

 

Black thuds slightly as she settles into the hangar. Keith pulls his helmet off and stands. 

 

Shiro follows after him. 

 

Like always, he gets stuck at Black’s mouth. He steps one foot onto solid, Castle floor, and his body jerks back. 

 

He can only watch through Black’s eyes. Keith waves at Lance and smiles at Pidge. He claps Hunk’s shoulder and eyes Allura with a bit of pride. 

It’s infuriating. He’s so close. He can still smell Keith in the air, and when Keith smiles back at Black faintly it feels like he’s been shot. 


End file.
